


Drunk Sunday

by tearinmyarc



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drunk Sherlock, Fluff, M/M, Sudden realization, Sunday at Baker Street
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 08:24:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearinmyarc/pseuds/tearinmyarc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock comes home drunk and John becomes confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drunk Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> My first Fic so please go easy on me:)  
> Helpful criticism is always appreciated.

John forced himself out of bed. It was his least favorite day of the week, Sunday. On Sunday there was no work. No clinic, no cases. On Sunday John was stuck in the apartment attempting to enjoy an easy day despite the shit Sherlock put him through. On Sunday Sherlock was restless. "Here we go again," John whispered to himself as he prepared to open his bedroom door and walk into the living room. He opened his door and was surprised to find the living room empty. Trying not to sulk at the thought of being left behind, John stumbled into the kitchen to prepare his morning tea. He put the kettle on, grabbed the paper, and flopped into his favorite chair. Soon after he began reading he heard the door open. Setting the paper down, he was greeted with an exhausted but excited looking Sherlock.

"Hello John. You will never guess where I just came from."

Noticing that Sherlock was in the previous day's clothes, John asked, "Have you been out all night?"

"Yes."

"And where were you exactly? You look like you've been to a bar."

"Yes! Spot on John. I knew you were a smart one."

"Why would you be in a bar? You hate bars."

"I was with Lestrade and he likes bars."

"Oh so has he got a new case for us then?"

"No no nothing like that. We were talking."

"About what exactly? You're not one for talking Sherlock."

"You."

"Me? Why were you talking about me?" John blushed with the question and was positive that Sherlock noticed.

Instead of answering, Sherlock leaned in and took John's face in both of his narrow, slender hands. John could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Are you drunk?" John whispered, his heart pumping from their extreme closeness.

"I do believe so."

Then Sherlock closed the small gap between his mouth and John's. At first John was resistant, but he soon found that kissing Sherlock was quite enjoyable. His lips were smooth and and gentle. Then it was as if someone had flipped a switch and Sherlock's mouth was gone. Realizing that his eyes were closed, John reopened them. As he did so he briefly saw Sherlock retreating into his room. Not knowing how to address what had just happened, John left for his bedroom, his thoughts lingering on the way Sherlock's lips had felt on his. Once returning to his room John immediately began pacing, wondering why Sherlock would kiss him. He was drunk after all, but surely there was feelings below the alcohol. Sherlock was not one for affections. He wouldn't kiss someone just because he was drunk. Trying not to jump to conclusions John's thoughts wondered to why he had enjoyed it as much as he had. Sure he had a couple of flings with blokes in the past, but they were short lived. John began to analyze his feelings for Sherlock. He had felt some impulses at times. Like when they seemed to have an entire conversation with only eye contact. Or when they had run all the way home after chasing a criminal; chest heaving with heavy breathing, pupils blown, hearts pumping adrenaline throughout their bodies. John spent the rest of the day, and most of the night, thinking about every feeling he had ever experienced around Sherlock. Eventually he reached the conclusion that he was in fact in love with Sherlock Holmes. John doubted Sherlock would remember their encounter in the morning, so he decided to let it go until the right moment arose.

The next morning he woke up already nervous. With every once of courage he could muster that early in the morning, John got out of bed, opened his bedroom door, and prepared to make his way to the kitchen. Upon entering the living room he noticed that for the second day in a row, it was empty. John went about his morning routine. As he flopped into his chair, Sherlock emerged from his bedroom.

"John, I'm sorry about yesterday."

"No it's quite alright."

"Is it?"

"Yes, you were drunk. Things happen."

"John?" Sherlock said it quietly. Almost as if John wasn't the only one who was a bit nervous.

"Hmm?"

"What if I told you that I can't stop thinking about it? About you."

John's heart began to accelerate at an alarming pace.

"I-I would say what a coincidence because I can't stop thinking about it or you either."

In a quick movement Sherlock was pulling John out of his chair. He walked him to the couch and sat beside him.

"Do you mind if I reenact yesterday's occurrence?" Sherlock said without hesitation.

"Be my guest."

And then Sherlock's soft lips were on his again. This time it was different. Slower. As if he was taking his time, studying. Then the pace quickened. The kiss become more passionate as all of their pent up sexual tension was released and they realized how badly they wanted each other. Sherlock straddled John and he gasped. Not missing any chances, Sherlock thrust his tongue into John's mouth. John moaned in pleasure. Sherlock grinned against his mouth. John bit Sherlock's lip and he emitted a noise so soft it was barely heard. John grew hard as Sherlock pushed him down in a lying position, straddling the tops of his thighs and moving his mouth down John's neck. Sherlock broke away and John groaned in frustration. He stared into the blue eyes that were becoming the center of his dreams and wondered why in gods name Sherlock would stop now.

"John, I'm not very educated in this area so excuse any mistakes I make."

"You seem to be very in control." John said with a smirk, indicating Sherlock's hands on his wrist and his legs pinning him to the couch.

"But I-"

"Just shut up and kiss me." John said grabbing his neck and crushing his lips, cutting off whatever he was about to say.

John was surprised to feel Sherlock's erection through his pajama pants. After a mere ten heated seconds of resumed kissing, Sherlock's phone beeped. John felt Sherlock freeze above him.

"Go ahead and get it." John said as he lovingly pushed the genius off of him. Sherlock gave him a reluctant look as he licked his lips and turned to grab his mobile off the coffee table.

"It's Lestrade. Serial killer. 5 victims."

"Better get dressed then."

Sherlock's eyes lit up as he ran for his bedroom. John stood to go to his room as Sherlock's door closed and immediately reopened. The consulting detective strode towards him, firmly kissed him on the lips, and raced back to his room. John grinned and began walking to his room thinking that their relationship was a strange one, but that he wouldn't change it for anything.


End file.
